Captivated Abyss
by aplacefarawayfromhere
Summary: The Varden are failing, so Nasuada, in her last desperate attempt, orders Eragon and Saphira to allow themselves to be captured by Thorn and Murtagh. Their mission is clear. They must find a way to sabotage the King in his own castle.
1. Prologue: Nasuada's Orders

**A/N: This story really isn't what my interpretation of Book 3 or 4 should be. Instead, it is just me writing a story about the creatures that fascinate me the most – the dragons, specifically Saphira and Shruikan. Chapters will generally be longer than the Prologue, so enjoy!**

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**Galbatorix's Castle in Uru'baen**

Saphira was a dragon in chains; therefore she was no dragon.

If her Rider weren't still alive, she would consider herself to be practically Nameless, a colorless dragon with no identity and no attachment to the world.

She had been in captivity for what felt like months in a special prison the black king designed just for her. Galbatorix, the cruel ruler that he was, allowed Saphira's cell to contain a barred window. It was small enough to hide the beauties of the world from her sight, yet it was large enough to where she knew exactly when the sun reached the middle of the sky. She cursed the window, because it demonstrated that Galbatorix understood her. He knew that the most horrendous crime he could commit against any dragon was to take their Rider and their freedom; and through her folly, Galbatorix had succeeded in doing both.

During her stay in the Oath Breaker's prison, Saphira was beaten in regular intervals, and her mind grew hazy from the pain. However, in those rare moments where she drifted into consciousness, she starred out of the window, subjecting herself to mental torture while knowing deep inside that she deserved it.

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**Nasuada's Pavillion**

Saphira poked her head through the hole in Nasuada's tent, trying to appear uninterested for her Rider, Eragon's, sake. She shut off part of her mind to him, letting her dislike of formalities take over the gloomy dread creeping over her scales.

Eragon, after bowing to his liege lord, took a quick glance at Saphira, a curious look etching his face. She knew that he would notice when she cut off her thoughts from him, but she smiled nonetheless, hoping to appease him.

Her little one turned away from her, and she too turned her focus on Nasuada. To Saphira's surprise, she noticed a slight hunch in the human's shoulders. It was not enough to make her look any less regal, but it showed Saphira that whatever the reason for her summons, it had not been easy for her. Saphira also noticed Nasuada's dress, which reminded her of stone – a drastic change from her usual gowns of emerald and sapphire – and her face was haggard and world-weary, making her look older than her age.

As her vassal approached her, she stood and greeted him warmly. "Eragon," she welcomed, getting rid of the small slouch in her posture.

Eragon bowed again. "At your service."

As hard as she tried to smile, Nasuada only managed a dismal tug at her lips. Saphira's dread grew from Nasuada's attempt, and she knew she wouldn't have to wait long for the human woman to state her purpose.

"I have a mission for you," she explained, her voice turning stern and reproachful with an inscrutable mask covering her true feelings. "And Eragon, just know that I will not be swayed from this decision."

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Saphira, hungry and incredibly lonely, reflected that she should have known that her mission would lead to this fate. In vain, she tested the motion of her wing, and she growled at pain the instant she tried. She had been beaten to the point of uselessness, and all because she and Eragon had been willing to sacrifice the most for the sake of the country.

And, adding to her guilt, Eragon had warned her, and her pride had kept her from listening.

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**Eragon's Tent**

_Saphira, no_, Eragon said sternly, his words containing a firm note of finality. He was polishing his armor for the battle to come while Saphira basked in the sunlight outside his tent. _There are a million different ways to defeat this Empire, but planning to get ourselves captured is not one of them._

W_ell what are your other suggestions? _She asked, feeling like he was being foolish. _We are losing this war, and this is the only way I believe we can defeat Galbatorix and Shruikan._

Eragon growled in frustration. _I don't know Saphira. I don't know how we can defeat them, but I will not let them take us to Uru'baen._

_It is our orders, Eragon, and as a vassal, you should obey_, she argued, trying to make him understand why they had to make the sacrifice. _We are powerful together, little one, but we are not more powerful than the Riders who oppose us in magical or physical combat. We have to do this for the good of the Varden._

_By what Saphira? Lying to them? By being taken willingly to the king himself, knowing that he'll torture and humiliate us? How does Nasuada expect us to avoid swearing fealty at all costs when Galbatorix and Shruikan can manipulate our minds and break our bones as much as they please? We'll go mad! _

Saphira could sense his emotions – the sadness, the anger, the sense of impending doom. She tried soothing him, because at the time, she believed that Nasuada's mission was their only chance.

_Think of what we could gain from this, little one, _she urged, trying to placate him. _We are the last free Dragon and Rider. We have the will power to not crumble under torture. It is our duty to discover how to separate the King from his stolen Dragon, and it is our duty to free Thorn and Murtagh. We must for Orik, Roran, Katrina, and Arya. We must do it for the future._

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They spent the rest of the afternoon arguing about the course of their plans. When Saphira randomly pondered on that time, she realized that she should have spent time enjoying Eragon's company. She should have taken him flying when the sun was setting or hunting or swimming.

Saphira had wasted that time, and she wished with all her majesty and power that she had not pushed him into their ultimate decision. Now, her mind had come up with a million ways to avoid the path they had chosen, and it made her grow bitter inside.

Despite her feelings, she did not feel angry towards Nasuada. The leader of the Varden was not delusional, and she saw from reports, charts, and men that our hopes of winning this war were waning. Her forces were depleting in increasing speed, her politics were being questioned, and her ultimate weapon would never defeat the black king through honorable means. Her plan was basically an act of desperation, and though her decision was the most dangerous of all her options, Saphira was not so sure whether she would not have arrived at the same conclusion.

Meanwhile Murtagh and Thorn had grown stronger and now commanded legions of Galbatorix's army. Their destruction wrecked havoc on many of the Varden, lowering moral and causing many incidences of insubordination and rebellion. At the time, Murtagh's army was stationed across the field, protecting the walls of Dras-Leona.

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**Battle For Dras-Leona**

"You can't win Eragon," yelled Murtagh, laughing hysterically. He stood on the steps of Helgrind towering over a fallen Eragon while Thorn had Saphira by the neck. "You and your dragon should come quietly. It will save you a lot of pain."

_Saphira I—._

_For the good of the Varden, _Saphira replied weakly as Thorn tightened his grip.

Her and Eragon had agreed to fight Murtagh and Thorn, so they wouldn't raise suspicions about their true mission by giving up so easily. No one must know, because the Varden would feel betrayed and lost while the King would kill them for their scheme.

Saphira, trying to waste time, spit blue fire into Thorn's face. Thorn responded with fire of his own, the force of his breath making his fire cut through her stream of flames. Saphira roared and swiped at him with her tail.

_Eragon! _she pleaded before trying to scorch Thorn's side. If they tried to last much longer they would die. _We've wasted enough time. You must cast the spell now!_

Eragon responded by uttering the shield spell that would feed off of both his and Saphira's energy supply. Saphira tensed, feeling his strength being sucked from his body by his spell. Murtagh laughed at what looked like to be a futile attempt at protection, and Eragon and Saphira took a small satisfaction in knowing that they had fooled him, that this is exactly what they wanted.

"You think that your spell will keep me from taking you to the King?" Murtagh asked incredulously. "You always had a vast amount of luck, Eragon, but today, your luck has failed you." Then, with the might of his mind, he used his most powerful spells to not only break through his barrier but through his mind.

Each hit weakened Eragon and Saphira's energy supply, and Murtagh and Thorn watched their progress with determined satisfaction. Saphira paid no attention, and as Eragon muttered the words to stop the spell and fainted shortly after, she too allowed the void to take her into the place of half-consciousness.

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When she next woke up, Saphira was on the floor in Galbatorix's throne room under the dark, insane gaze of the dragon, Shruikan. She knew she was hurt, but she looked up defiantly into the eyes of the crazed dragon, challenging him and his power.

Shruikan did not disappoint. She was back into oblivion with the first swipe of his claw.

After that encounter, Saphira assumed that Shruikan had roughly taken her to her torture cell. From then on she was beaten every so often, mentally and physically, but she endured, because she knew in her heart that Eragon, the main reason of her existence, was still alive. She comprehended from the snide comments the guards or the magicians made during her beatings that they were trying to break her spirit, and until they did, they would not stop.

Saphira tried to endure. She tried to not worry about her lack of food, her destroyed scales, or her Rider. She could not give up, because if she did, all would be lost.

No matter what, she would find a way to win.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading!**


	2. An Altered View On Hate

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Eragon.

**A/N: Special thanks to reviewers. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I loved every single one of your reviews, and I hope this chapter pleases you.**

**Maximum Ride**: Thank you so much for your review. You'll see Eragon in this chapter, but what happened to him won't be explained until the next chapter.

**Camnstarr4eva**: Thank you so much for your review! In response to your question, I don't think that I will write from Eragon's POV as of now, because my main focus is Saphira; however, there might be a brief venture with Eragon as soon as I decide where this plot is going to go, and maybe I might even let the readers see a bit of Shruikan's POV as well. Only time will tell.

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**Saphira's Cell**

_Hatred._

That ugly word floated through Saphira's mind with each passing day she spent rotting in her cell. At some point in her imprisonment, she had become numb to the pain, and through that lack of physical feeling, she could once again think philosophically. Before being captured, she thought, without guilt or resentment, that dragons could hate, whether it be through their Riders or their personal grievances. Now, stripped of her beauty and dignity, she reflected that she had never really hated anything and that Glaedr, despite her stubborn refusal from his explanation, was right about that word and how it relates to the nature of dragons.

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**Glaedr's Cliff Several Months Ago**

Saphira and Glaedr lay facing each other on top of a cliff a few miles west from Oromis's hut. Usually, Glaedr conducted his flying lessons near the landmark, but today, the Golden Dragon decided to teach a lesson on the Dragon race instead. Saphira didn't mind, because she was eager to learn about her race and how to not be ignorant towards Dragon belief and customs. For most of her life, she had not been able to discover any deep meaning in herself, because she did not know anything about her predecessors; but now, she jumped at the prospect of finally understand her instincts, both of her flesh and her mind. Her tail twitched impatiently as she waited for Glaedr to begin the lesson.

_Dragons_, he began in the ancient language, his voice so full of knowledge that Saphira never ceased to be humbled by it. _Dragons feel differently than other races_. _This you must understand Saphira, because it will help shape who you are and determine the right decisions to make when your emotions are involved._

Saphira's head, which had been resting on her talons, lifted slightly in interest. _But master_ – she interjected, not quite sure what he meant – _in my experience, I've felt emotions akin to the other intelligent races of this country._

_Yes you have,_ Glaedr agreed. _Yet, you do not understand why humans like to talk for long periods of time or why dwarves have clans or even why elves choose to hide their emotions for an indefinite amount of years. Behavior of that nature will never be understood by our race._

Saphira nodded her head in concurrence, deciding it was best to see where the wise dragon was taking his lecture.

_That, Saphira, is because of the obvious reason that we have different urges and ambitions,_ Glaedr explained. He then paused and turned his graceful neck to examine the clear blue sky and the lush forest of Du Weldenvarden, two entities she knew Glaedr appreciated more than any other in Alagaesia. The Golden Dragon, after a few moments of silence, began again while still contently observing the horizon beyond. _For example, when we look for mates, we put no weight on their ability to sing or manage a household or farm. Instead, we rely on the smell and scales of another dragon to incite physical attraction, and we appreciate the skills of flying and hunting. Therefore, we love everything that defines us as a true Dragon._

_So love,_ Saphira interrupted, embarrassed by the example he used because of her feelings for him, but curious nonetheless. _As Joined Dragons, we feel love for our Riders and for what makes us free, and we feel hate for what threatens them_.

_That is where you are incorrect, hatchling,_ Glaedr replied, turning to face her again with his eyes softened from staring at the beauty surrounding him. _We Dragons feel extremes, yes, but even so, we do not truly hate. Being the freest creatures in Alagaesia means that we hold a position above all other races in that we never are bound to any of them_.

_But master,_ Saphira interrupted again, confused, _I can't help but hate Galbatorix with every fiber of my being._

_Yes, Saphira, you do to an extent, but only through your Rider,_ Glaedr explained calmly. _You forget that you and your Rider's feelings intermingle, and now that you and Eragon have a stronger connection, his emotions feel as if they are yours. You have to separate them, hatchling, so that you do not make the best decisions for your Rider according to his feelings as opposed to your own._

_But I truly hate Galbatorix for what he is putting Eragon through. My Rider experiences a never ending cycle of pain from him, directly and indirectly; and every day, I have stop myself from flying to Uru' baen and wrecking havoc on his whole castle for his deeds,_ Saphira argued, still not agreeing with her master.

Glaedr nodded his head slightly, accepting that he wasn't going to change the Sapphire Dragon's opinion. _You are still young, Saphira. There will come a day where you realize that hate is not apart of us, for we cannot discriminate against any creature that resides in this land. Our job is to protect, and this Alagaesia, without exceptions, was given to us to do just that._

_What about the Ra'zac or the Urgals?_ Saphira questioned, doubt for her master's words filling her for the first time.

_We fight them because they present a danger to others in this country. If they didn't, then no matter how vile, we wouldn't touch them. Unfortunately, their natures make them our natural enemies,_ Glaedr elucidated as clearly as possible. His gaze then abruptly turned from calm patience to intense urgency, catching Saphira off guard. It felt as if he could see into her very soul. _You must listen to me Saphira, because this is the last I will say on this matter. We feel anger, yes, we feel the need for vengeance, yes, but a dragon never hates. Our nature guards against it, because that extreme emotion animalizes us until we are nothing more than beasts lusting for blood. You can't ever hate, Saphira. Give every creature its chance before you hate._

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**Saphira's Cell**

_You must never hate._

Saphira remembered those words as if they were spoken yesterday, and she realized that even though her wounds angered her flesh and her fury consumed her, she didn't irrevocably hate her jailors. They were cruel and had no guilt for their crimes, but she didn't hate them.

Her revelation came from one particular magician that was assigned to break her mind. His name was Alorom, and he had caused her immense amounts of pain in the special part of her brain guarding her memories. His invasion jabbed at Saphira, but she sensed that he was weaker than the others, so she tried to enter his mind in retaliation. What she saw made her recoil from him in quiet acceptance.

Her vision was a quick glimpse, but Saphira caught snippets of faces, and she comprehended that it was the magician's family waving goodbye to him with unimaginable sorrow. In that moment, Saphira understood why he was torturing her, and she withdrew and let him battle through her barriers without invading his own.

She also delicately entered some of the guard's minds, and she found the same heartbreaking images. Saphira discovered that in spite of their deeds, they weren't truly evil, and Galbatorix was threatening them unless they did his bidding. It was difficult, thinking on fair terms with her torturers, but Glaedr was right; she must think that way if she was going to make the best decisions for herself and her Rider.

And what about Galbatorix? Saphira had always viewed him as an evil tyrant, but as she thought during the never-ending cycle of days, she remembered that the Elders of Vroengard had refused him another Dragon, and, in spite of herself, Saphira understood his grief. This reign of terror was a direct result of his misery over his Dragon's death. Regardless, Saphira reasoned that the tragedy that befell his Dragon didn't constitute for the pain he inflicts upon Alagaesia, but it did explain his character, and for that, Saphira couldn't hate him.

Thorn and Shruikan fell into the same category. Thorn was tied to Galbatorix in order to protect his Rider, and Shruikan was driven mad because the King took his companionship through black magic.

So, where did all these epiphanies place her? Saphira was bonded with her ties to Eragon – her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind – but those ties and her wordless resistance weren't going to help them complete their mission. She must think like a Dragon, and she couldn't let bias get in the way of the survival of her race. One way or another, she would kill the King for the sake of all living creatures in Alagaesia, and she would save the remaining Dragons and Eldunari in his castle for her race.

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**A Couple Days Later**

Time passed rapidly since Saphira's philosophical notions. After her resolve was made, she went into a deep sleep, finally at peace with a small part of herself, even though her circumstances dictated otherwise. During that sleep, her mind healed partially, and she reached a strange state in which her mental strength overwhelmed her physical senses, which gave her protection against the pain her regular beatings imposed on her. Saphira guessed that one of Galbatorix's pet magicians would eventually tell him of her strange aversion to pain, because the beatings were constructed to weaken her mind, and they couldn't continue without breaking her defense mechanism.

She was proven right when on one particular day, after her usual beating, she heard large footsteps echoing through her prison's hallway. Judging by the rhythm of the footsteps, Saphira estimated that the creature had four legs, which indicated that either Thorn or Shruikan had been ordered to try to break her resistance.

As the doors opened, Saphira tensed, slowly feeling her mind fall out of her mental stupor. She wished she wasn't so frightened, because if she could maintain indifference, like she did towards Galbatorix's other pets, then whichever dragon's attempt at hurting her wouldn't harm her mentally. But, as she felt the breath of the Dragon on her neck and the purely powerful, male scent of him, she realized that the Dragon on the mission was Shruikan, not Thorn, and her tail twitched in unwanted fear. She then felt herself recoil slightly and, instead of fiery aches, she was surprised at the sensations she felt.

_What is this?_ Saphira asked herself, twitching her tail again. _No pain?_ She thought, testing her wing. Slowly, she tested the rest of her body and realized, with profound exitement, that she was healed. Saphira stretched her neck, feeling exuberant at her newfound knowledge. As she was about to stand and check her legs, she heard a feral growl, and she quickly remembered that she was not alone in her cell.

As her gaze refocused on Shruikan, Saphira opened her mouth and prepared to spit flames at him, but then she heard the familiar armor of her guards and quickly stood, preparing to fight them as well. As soon as they entered, she opened her mouth and shot, but her throat constricted, and she had to lie back down. As her throat and lungs burned, she mentally bit herself for not thinking that Galbatorix had enchanted her abilities.

Taking their opportunity, the soldiers quickly unlocked her magical shackles, and she heard one of them yell, "The King wants her in the throne room, Shruikan."

At his words, Saphira's body filled with ice-cold dread. Galbatorix had never sought her presence from her time in captivity at his castle, so his summons marked the beginning of doom. Sensing her throat clearing, Saphira tried to get up and fight again, but in her haste, she forgot that the magicians usually accompanied the soldiers; and at her first movement, the king's pets bound her so tightly that she had trouble breathing.

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Shruikan open his mouth and take hold of her tail. Saphira felt violated, because it was her races custom that a Dragon could only touch another Dragon's tail if they were familiar with each other. It frustrated her that she couldn't make him stop, but she knew that fighting was only going to make her lose her mind, so she let herself be dragged out of her cell into the unknown.

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**Galbatorix's Throne Room**

It didn't take long for her party to reach the throne room, and Saphira had to allow that Galbatorix new how to keep what he stole, seeing as her prison was constructed so close to his quarters. Saphira felt herself being dragged to the center of the dome-shaped, black marble room, which was directly in front of where Galbatorix was seated upon his gilded throne. As Shruikan let go of her tail, she took the slight pause to examine the King. He was just as she imagined him – wearing all black, with a gem encrusted crown and a cruel smile. His demeanor and the aura surrounding him bespoke of the terror and power he held and the sense of entitlement he thought he deserved. At his smug look, Saphira severely resented the position in which the magicians had bound her, because she felt as if she was being forced to bow to a man who was the least deserving of being a ruler.

After a few more moments, Galbatorix stood and sauntered towards Saphira, making sure she felt dread at his presence. Saphira steeled herself, refusing to appear weak in front of him. She looked up as far as she could, and she narrowed her eyes in defiance at his tactics.

Galbatorix's smile grew as he slowly circled around her. "You have lasted longer than I expected, Saphira," he drawled by way of greeting. He then snapped his fingers, and Saphira looked at Shruikan, anticipating an attack from him.

Instead, Shruikan went to curl up in his designated spot by Galbatorix's throne, and she heard other footsteps – lighter than Shruikan's but still heavy – and grasped that Thorn would be joining them as well. Saphira looked in the direction opposite the hallway of her cell, and sure enough, the bulky red Dragon entered, and in his mouth he was carrying…

_**Eragon!**_

He hadn't been so far away from her! Saphira scrutinized him more, daring to extend her mind to him, and to her horror, she couldn't feel anything – no thoughts, no feeling, nothing. Her rage grew, and she tried to roar, but her throat constricted again, and she was left hacking on the floor, miserable and alone.

"Don't worry Saphira," Galbatorix placated, knowing her thoughts. "Eragon is not dead."

Despite the situation, Saphira's coughing ceased and she felt warm relief flood through her veins.

"However," Galbatorix continued, his placating tone turning malicious, "he is in the deepest of sleeps, the kind that puts a person's soul halfway through the void, where thoughts and dreams are pitch black while the body is still with the living."

Saphira rage resurfaced, for she understood all to well what tactic he was relying upon. The black king wanted a favor from her, and he was using Eragon to bait her into agreeing to his desires. This was the cruelest of all tricks, and Saphira's eyes narrowed in defiance once more, silently awaiting the terms of the King's wants.

Instead of speaking out loud, Galbatorix moved closer to Saphira and extended his hands, letting them caress her velvet wings and her Sapphire blue scales. His gaze expressed his greed, and Saphira felt her stomach turn at the notion of being viewed like a prized horse. The King moved leisurely from her wings to her neck, making sure to move his hands achingly slow to satisfy his sick urge for control.

Once he made it to Saphira's snout, he retracted his hand and stared into her eyes, appearing satisfied at the emotions he saw within them. "It is well you are learning to fear me, Saphira" he said, taking extra care to let his voice linger over her name, knowing it would disgust her. "In fact, you learned faster than Thorn or my own Dragon, which is why I want to offer you something."

Saphira closed her eyes, because not acknowledging him was the only form of defiance she could do under her restraints.

Instead, her gesture only served to please him more. He clucked his tongue before saying, "Even with your intelligence, you are also physically strong and set on defying me. As admirable as that is, I would advise that you stop and join me. I can give you the world, Saphira. I can allow you to be free not just here in Alagaesia but all over the world. You can rule with me, and the nations of this planet will be subject to your whims!" His voice dropped suddenly to a whisper that chilled her soul. "But in order to have what every dragon wants most, you must swear fealty to me."

Saphira couldn't say that she didn't see it coming, but Galbatorix's audacity shocked her nonetheless. How could he expect her to abide by his wishes? How dare he expect her to give up her Rider, her race, and the fate of all the creatures in Alagaesia? It offended her that he thought she was so weak – that she would switch loyalties by the promise of power, when in reality, his offers didn't tempt her at all.

Once again, Saphira chose not to reply.

Galbatorix, astonishingly, didn't seem perturbed by her refusal. Instead, he turned his back on Saphira, and with a slight murmur and a lift of his hand, Saphira was freed from her bind and her throat-constricting spell. Once she was aware of her small freedom, Saphira stood and subtly poised herself for an attack, ready to let the King see the glory of her fire.

Instead, she stopped short when she noticed Eragon was still in Thorn's mouth. Saphira, the removal of her binds letting her observe even closer, found that Eragon looked emaciated and pale, and she felt her bile rumble in her stomach. Galbatorix knew having Eragon so close to death crippled Saphira, and with that advantage, she had to obey him no matter the cost.

_You cannot swear fealty,_ echoed Nasuada's order within the confines of her mind.

_But how can she not_? thought Saphira in despair. It was nigh on impossible for her to refuse without losing Eragon, for she knew that she was too weak to carry on without the person who cared the most about her in the world. Regardless of Nasuada's orders, Saphira had always told herself that if it would prevent Eragon's death, she would do anything to stop it, including swear fealty to Galbatorix.

Saphira opened her mind and was about to speak when, by some stroke of luck, the King spoke first.

"Very well then," he accepted, sounding more self-satisfied. "To persuade you, I will not break your mind, like expected; but instead, I will let you go hunting for food."

Despite her initial joy, Saphira's suspicions roused as she stared at him cautiously.

He laughed hollowly at her expression. "Don't worry, my dear. I'll let you have your food." The King then motioned for Thorn to drop Eragon at his feet before returning his gaze to her. He put his fingers together and a fiendish shadow crossed his face before he said, "But, I'm making your hunting trip a game, so that you and Thorn can catch up on your friendship."

Thorn growled in response to the King's explanation. Saphira growled back, her old rivalry with the overgrown red dragon aroused once again.

Galbatorix chuckled at their antics. "Ah, very good, very good. This should be interesting," he exclaimed, propping his feet on Eragon's body in his merriment.

The Black King should have known better than to show blatant disrespect for Saphira's Rider, and she growled again, letting her rage vibrate in her throat as her determination increased exponentially by the second.

Just for emphasis, Galbatorix ground the heel of his boot into Eragon's back, watching Saphira writhe with anger. "I see you are up for my game," he drawled, grinding his boot again for good measure. "Well then, here are the rules. You go hunting with Thorn. When you find prey, kill it and bring it back to me. However, it is Thorn's job to try to take your prey from you." He leaned forward then, his voice dropping mischievously, and said, "Anything goes."

Saphira, not wasting time, turned her back on the King's throne and ran while beating her wings as fast as she could. She was soon airborne and flew the length of the throne room's walls, letting herself enjoy the freedom of flying before she had to hunt to save her life. There were windows located near the dome shaped ceiling, and Saphira broke through them, ducking her head to avoid the shards of glass threatening to gouge her eyes.

Faintly, she could hear Thorn a short distance from her, but she refused to focus on him. If Saphira was going to win, she had to focus on her prey like she focused on Eragon during battle. She had to fly for the animal she would capture, not for herself, and she had to make herself vulnerable to every hit while protecting her catch.

While she flew, floating on a draft heading West, she didn't extend her mind, making her ability to find prey limited to her sense of sight and smell. If the rules were "anything goes", then Thorn could easily break her mind in order to succeed, so Saphira would rather take longer to find a kill then to risk her neck for the sake of efficiency.

Twenty minutes after leaving Uru'baen, Saphira spotted a heard of antelope grazing directly below her, and she flew past them, trying to trick Thorn. He was confused but followed her nonetheless, and once she passed the herd, she performed an angular dive, flying right under Thorn's snout. Saphira executed her maneuver so quickly that even Thorn, who grows stronger everyday, was slow to react. She dove lower, constantly lower, forcing the Red Dragon to imitate her break-neck speed.

At the last minute, Saphira opened her wings, letting the natural friction of the air rip at her wings in its effort to slow her. The antelope noticed this, and they started to run from Saphira's imposing form. She was faster than the poor creatures though, and she beat her wings furiously in the direction of her prey. Seconds later, Saphira swooped down and grabbed one of the plumper antelope in her mouth, breaking its neck in the process. She welcomed the quick rush of victory, letting the feeling overwhelm her fear and misery, and then shifted slightly to the left, flapping her wings until she caught a draft heading back to Uru'baen.

As she looked back, trying to spot Thorn, she caught a quick glimpse of a spiked tail before it hit her across the face with such force that she lost the antelope. Saphira reacted quickly, allowing her rage to guide her and using her tail to pierce Thorn's belly. He roared with anger and tried to scorch her tail, but Saphira was faster, and she let out a jet of flame, not caring where it went so long as it burned her rival. Not wasting any time, she dove again wrapping her wings tightly around her body so she could catch the antelope before it hit the ground.

She caught it just in time, wrapping her teeth around its body at about one hundred feet above the ground. Afterward, she dare not fly back skyward to join Thorn. Instead, she flew slightly above where she caught the antelope and remained there, flapping her wings furiously since she was without draft support.

Unfortunately, Thorn saw this as an advantage. He let himself get carried by the wind until he reached Saphira and then dove after her. When he was a couple of feet above her, Thorn opened his wings again and beat them to keep up with his blue nemesis. Once he was directly above her, Thorn spit out jets of red flame ceaselessly, causing Saphira to have to swerve and keep herself aloft at the same time.

Saphira knew this would tire her out, so she had to find a way to disable him enough to where she could escape. She glanced at Thorn, narrowly missing another maliciously aimed stream of flame, and she noticed how intent he was on burning her. He had the higher ground, so no matter what she did to get to his altitude, he would damage her. She couldn't breath her fire back at him, because she was holding the antelope in her mouth, and she refused to transfer it to her claws. There was only one hope left for Saphira, and she had to take it.

_It's a long shot, but it'll have to do_, she thought, dodging around more red flames while gaining some air in preparation for her attack.

Thorn noticed her move and breathed more fire with renewed vigor. He was angry, and that was exactly what Saphira wanted. Hopefully he was too preoccupied with scorching her that he forgot enough about his mind, giving Saphira the advantage of surprise. In swift concentration, she extended her mind until she reached Thorn's. His barriers were tough, just like she expected, but they were not invulnerable to her prodding; and Saphira took immense joy in prodding like she never prodded before.

Two quick jabs with her mind were all it took to stop Thorn's fire. Three more jabs was all Saphira needed to reach him. She was about to hit his mind again when Thorn unexpectedly lashed out and bit her, his teeth sinking into her side. Saphira wanted to roar with outrage, but she was still holding the antelope. Instead, she redirected her energy to her talons, and with one quick lash, she broke the bones in Thorn's right foreleg. Thorn was still holding on to her, so with all her might, she swiped at the same leg, this time tearing his scales. Thorn still held her while his teeth dug dangerously deep into her body. Saphira's gaze slowly started to flicker, and she knew that she had to get rid of Thorn once and for all.

With a graceful whip of her neck, Saphira threw the antelope outward, giving her more time before it hit the ground, and turned back to Thorn, aiming her fire towards his wounded leg. That was the last straw for the red dragon, and he roared from the pain, inadvertently letting Saphira go free.

As soon as Thorn's fangs left her body, Saphira turned and swiftly flew towards the direction of her antelope, once again catching it minutes before it hit the ground. Once the antelope was safely in her mouth, Saphira – even though her aching muscles protested – flew faster than she's ever flown before. She was glad to notice that her efforts had flown her close enough to Uru'baen to where she could avoid a third encounter with Thorn.

Nevertheless, Saphira flew with an image of Eragon's limp body motivating her pace, which caused her wings to feel as heavy as stones. She held the antelope tighter in her mouth, hoping that the red dragon wouldn't catch her by surprise or that her strength would run out.

To her relief, Thorn never caught up to her before she reached Galbatorix's castle.

As she reentered through the window she had broken, the King was waiting patiently on his throne in almost the same position Saphira had left him. She quickly landed back in the middle of the throne room, sweet rebellion emanating from her very aura. She winced a little when she hit the ground, because her relief allowed her to feel the full extent of the wound Thorn had given her.

As she dropped her kill on the cold stone floor, Galbatorix clapped mockingly for her achievement. "Bravo," he congratulated with false pleasure. "You've successfully proven the _worthlessness_ of Murtagh's dragon. Now," he said briskly, his mocking smile widening until his face looked hideously deformed, "you will have to face a worthier opponent. Shruikan!"

The black dragon sitting lazily at his side promptly snapped up at the King's command. He looked at Saphira straight in the eye, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw his eyes briefly fill with confusion before they turned hard and merciless.

Galbatorix laughed hysterically, clapping his hands, this time, in genuine amusement. "Oh, don't you appreciate my games, Saphira? The ones that have predictable rules are fun, but they are hardly the ones worth playing. No, the only games with any merit are the ones with an unexpected catch, and here is yours Saphira! You've successfully outmaneuvered Thorn. Let's see how you do with a real dragon."

The King gestured forward, and Shruikan slowly stalked forward, his molten eyes glimmering for blood. Saphira, for a brief moment, felt pity well in her heart for this creature. Galbatorix calls him a real dragon, but Saphira knew, without a doubt, that he would never be one, even if he escaped his cruel master.

Before Shruikan pounced on her, Saphira took a quick look at Eragon and wished with all of her heart that he was awake and that he could help her. _I'll keep you safe, little one, _she promised before turning her attention back to the black dragon.

That split second cost her, and Shruikan pounced on her, taking her out, once again, with one swipe at her face.

………………………………………………….

**Back in her cell**

As Saphira woke up, she felt the familiar grime on the floor and she smelled the pungent odor of rotten human. As she moved her legs, she unsurprisingly found her shackles. Wondering if she'd been healed, Saphira stretched as much as she could, and to her dismay, her side cried out in burning protest. This wound was deeper than the ones the soldiers were ordered to give her, and it immobolized Saphira completely from fear of tearing more tissue or causing internalized bleeding.

Groaning, she opened her eyes, and she was thankful that it was night. She hated looking at injuries – especially her own – and the night let her retain some ignorance to the damage.

As she looked to her right, she saw something a foot or two away from her. Saphira whipped her tongue out slightly, tasting the air, and she was surprised to taste to aroma of antelope and male dragon. As she scrutinized the object even more, she saw the outline of a head, and Saphira quickly identified it as the antelope's skull.

Shruikan must have left it as a reminder.

……………………………………………………

**A/N: Thank you for reading.**

**Chapter preview:**

_Saphira, I had no choice_, Eragon replied, the weight of his decision weighing on both his heart and hers.


End file.
